


Ducal Obligations

by Lisafer



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Forum: Goldenlake, Wishing Tree Gift Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 08:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17056037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisafer/pseuds/Lisafer
Summary: Even someone as loyal to the crown as Duke Gareth has his “don’t wanna!” moments.(Prompt: Duke Gareth and/or Imperious Duchess fic - failing that, anything featuring the word Naxen)





	Ducal Obligations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seori/gifts).



“What do you intend to do about this?” Roanna asked her husband. They stood together in the great hall of Naxen, the shields of Gareth’s ancestors hovering over them on the high walls as though they were anticipating his next move.

“I’ve done my part,” he said, sitting at the head of the formal dining table with a definite slouch. “I’m finished. Roald is my king and command me, but even he knows that a line should be drawn.”

Roanna sat down in the seat on his left and took his hand in her own, running her fingers delicately over the marred flesh at the base of where his finger should have been. Her delicate eyebrows furrowed. “What has being the King’s Champion taken out of you? Isn’t it primarily a ceremonial role?”

“Mainly,” he said, his nasal voice filled with derision. “I’m a decorative threat. A shiny sword that Roald gets to threaten when he doesn’t get his way.”

“And how often does that happen?” she asked, unimpressed. He squirmed like a young boy, and she couldn’t help but scoff. “You’ve never been called to the courts on his account.”

“Not yet,” Gareth said with a frown. “But many are unhappy with his dealings with the Bazhir, so I’m sure it will happen eventually.”

“And what don’t you like about the prime minister position? You’ve always been his right-hand. That’s the role of the Naxens throughout our history.”

Gareth leaned back in his chair with a sigh, taking a goblet of wine in the other hand. “The Naxen House has been taken advantage of for the last two hundred years. If a queen is needed, they look first to Naxen. If there’s a vacancy among the king’s ministers, they come to Naxen for help. If there is strife among the other landowners, the Naxens will straighten it all out.”

“That’s what it means to be the first among the ducal houses,” Roanna said, her voice matter-of-fact. “That’s the honor of being a Naxen. It’s one of the reasons I chose to marry into this house.”

His glance was sharp. “You said you married for love.”

“Yes, of course I did.” Her mouth quirked in the slightest smirk. “But I didn’t let anyone else court me because they weren’t from Naxen, so you had little to no competition.”

“You’re terrible,” he said with a bark of laughter.

“I’ve always known what I wanted, Gareth,” she said firmly. “And part of that is being a service to the crown. Being part of the political sphere that shapes the realm, influencing those who have the power to change the world. What about that is distasteful to you?”

He finished off his wine with a gulp. “Lianne nearly died in childbirth this past August,” he said, “and the reward is that Naxen is offered the position of prime minister for our suffering. As though being put in a position of power is somehow enough to make up for almost losing our pride and joy.”

“I thought little Gary was your pride and joy,” she replied, her voice almost as dry as the wine.

His gaze was level. “My point is that I’ve given up a lot for this realm already, and Roald keeps asking for more.”

“It seems to me that Lianne has given up more,” she countered, “as _she_ is the one who almost gave her life to give Tortall an heir. Yet strangely she does not complain. Tell me honestly, Gareth. Why do you oppose this appointment?”

“Because it will not end here!” he exclaimed uncharacteristically. “Because Roald has lost the support of King Jasson’s most trusted vassals, who loved the idea of expanding south. Because Roald has acquiesced to foreign dignitaries and has put us in a position of weakness. Mark my words, his reluctance to create conflict by standing up to our neighbors will result in one of them pushing too hard. We will be driven to a war of defense, or, even worse, he will simply let them chew up our borders and take our lands for their own.”

“Don’t you realize that you’re the voice he needs?” Roanna asked, her tone soft and low. “You’ve been given the chance to show him how to be firm with the other nobles, or with Tusaine and Galla.”

“And I will have to move to Corus. Stay at the palace, dealing with the worst kind of bureaucrats, rather than being here in the home I love, with the people I’d rather be with.”

“Darling, I think it’s adorable that you think Gary and I won’t come with you.”

He sat up, surprised. “But you love Naxen. You never like going to Corus.”

She smirked. “I don’t like Corus much because we stay with your mother when we’re there. But I love you even more than life here in Naxen, and I’m hardly going to leave you to guide the kingdom without me. You’d draw ridiculous conclusions. Like thinking that Roald offered the position to you out of deference for a near-loss, rather than a thank you for loyal service.”

He was meditative for a long moment, and she could see that he was re-evaluating the entire situation. His expressions went through a myriad of changes before settling back on the thoughtful and neutral face she knew best.

“Think about it, Gareth,” she said, excitement in her voice. “You’ve always been his sword arm, his brute. The brother-in-law he fears rather than the confidante he trusts. Now you can be his left arm, as well.”

“You’re quite right, dear,” he finally agreed. “You’ve helped me greatly, as ever. We’ll leave for Corus after midwinter.”

“I’d be delighted to,” she said, rising to her feet and kissing her husband’s forehead. “And I’m sure Gary will like to be close to his cousin.”

A servant entered the room, a letter in hand. “Pardon me, sir, but royal couriers just delivered this.” The missive was handed over and the servant excused himself as Gareth read. 

“Oh for Mithros’s sake!” he exclaimed upon reaching the end of the letter. “Now he wants me to be the training master, too!”


End file.
